The Sunspire The sound of their tongues being bitten is all I hear.

Branches quaked overhead to the tempo of the worsening rain.

The man moved fluidly towards him, as if he could evade the drops, and while the boy was left briefly wondering if the man had the reach to worry about, there came the flash of teeth too close to Sivugat - the gut instinct to swerve and lunge himself, towards the danger, to cuff the man's ankle with a bite.

Low now, barely above the rocks littering the path, and snaking after the stranger with the intent to come in close and strike upward; it was not quick but deliberate and well telegraphed.